


Cultural Dynamics

by Phantoms_Echo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author really needs to get with the times, Author's Poor Sense of Humor, Bathing/Washing, Collars, Complete, Confused!Keith, Dom!Lance, Dom/sub, Kneeling, M/M, Mainly because Author has only watched Season 1, No Smut, Nudity, Sensation Play, Service Top, Subdrop, Topdrop, What is the universe coming to?!, What?! A Dom/Sub fic with no smut?!, Zarkon was a Sub?!, angry!Lance, soft core, sub!Keith, they figure it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-01 05:51:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16278968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantoms_Echo/pseuds/Phantoms_Echo
Summary: “You want to what?” Keith demanded.“I am a Dom. I need to Dom someone,” Lance tried to explain. “If I go for a long time without doing so, I get the shakes, bad. So I just wanted to know if I could brush your hair or give you a massage or something.”“I… um… thanks, but…” Keith rubbed at the back of his neck. “I had been planning… to… take a shower?”The question at the end made it obvious that it was a lie to get him off Keith’s back. Lance should have known to back off then, but his mouth had other ideas, “I can do that too.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron: Legendary Defender or its characters, only the idea behind this fic.
> 
> WARNING: I am *NOT* an expert on BDSM etiquette. All I know is what I have gleaned from similar fics. As such, there are going to be many things that diverge from reality. #1 of which is: This is a Dom/Sub AU, where Doms and Subs have a genetic categorization. In real life, some Doms will Sub for different people and some Subs will Dom. This story does not take this into account, only classifying Doms and Subs by their nature.
> 
> In addition, the type of Dom Lance is (Service-Top) is a thing, though not often seen in D/s stories. I have read quite a few stories that do it well though, and it's ended up being one of my more favored types. If you are looking for Hard-core play, I'm sorry to say that this fic is not the one for you. Everything here will be soft-core at best.
> 
> As stated in the tags, no smut will make its appearance here, though it will be implied and there will be nudity due to bathing scenes.
> 
> This has 3 chapters in total, to be updated every week. It is my goal to update on Fridays, but life likes to push me off the diving board sometimes, so we'll have to see how that goes.
> 
> Comments are monitored and hate will be deleted.
> 
> I think that covers everything. If you're still here, please enjoy the fic! :)

Lance felt the itch under his skin, the itch to pamper and spoil someone within an inch of their life. His inner Dom hadn’t had anyone to shower with affection in a long time and it was starting to make Lance’s skin crawl.

Usually, he could brush his little sisters’ hair or do his big sister’s nails or give his mom a massage and the urge would fade. Even if they were family and no subs, it was enough to sate his Dom, but he wasn’t with his family.

He was in space. And as cool as that sounded, the available subs were few and far between.

Not that he’d be likely to attract one anyway.

Back on Earth, he’d been an oddity: he didn’t like pain play like other Doms did. He liked Bondage well enough (that incident with Nyma gave him some ideas) and wax play didn’t seem too bad, but whips and floggers? Weren’t his thing.

As such, subs on Earth hadn’t been attracted to him. They all wanted that harsher play. They wanted to feel the bruises and see the marks left over. They wanted something Lance didn’t feel comfortable giving them. Sure, there may have been someone on Earth that felt like he did, but he wasn’t on earth anymore.

And so far, few alien species had shared even _similar_ dynamics to humans.

Which brought Lance back to his itchy-itchy skin-crawling problem: he needed to Dom someone.

Pidge was out. Even if Lance could look past the under-aged teenaged girl thing, Pidge didn’t seem inclined to want her nails done or her hair brushed. She pushed ‘Tom-boy’ to a new extreme.

While Hunk was his best friend, Lance knew that the thing to make the other boy happiest would be to let Hunk take care of _him_ , which is not what Lance needed.

Shiro had too many unknown triggers still. Lance could step wrong without even knowing and have a mess on his hands. Shiro was out.

Allura probably wouldn’t say yes and Coran… Coran would probably want to observe him like some sort of experiment.

Lance didn’t want to feel like a science project.

So that left one alternative.

“You want to _what_?” Keith demanded, skewing up his nose in disgust.

Lance drew a hand down his face. Maybe he should have gone to Coran. It would be better than the _look_ he was getting from Keith right now.

No. He was here. He had already asked. Keith hadn’t turned him away yet. Lance would ask once, get an answer, and never ask again. But first, the answer.

“I am a Dom. I need to Dom someone,” Lance tried to explain. “If I go for a long time without doing so, I get the shakes, _bad_. So I just wanted to know if I could brush your hair or give you a massage or something.”

“I… um… thanks, but…” Keith rubbed at the back of his neck. “I had been planning… to… take a shower?”

The question at the end made it obvious that it was a lie to get him off Keith’s back. Lance should have known to back off then, but his mouth had other ideas, “I can do that too.”

“W- _what_?!” Keith sputtered, cheeks darkening in an amusing pink hue. “Why would you-?! And that-! Why _me_?!”

“Well, Pidge is under-aged and not a girly-girl. Hunk likes taking care of others and Shiro is a minefield. Allura would say ‘no’ and Coran is… Coran,” Lance listed off on his fingers with a cringe on the last one. “Look, it’s fine if you feel uncomfortable with this. I’ll just go see if I can talk one of the others into-!”

“No wait!” Keith sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’ll do it.”

Lance… was not expecting that. “You will? Really? No joke?”

“You're making me regret agreeing to this,” Keith growled as he crossed his arms uncomfortably over his chest.

“No, nope, nuh-uh!” Lance said as he grabbed Keith by the shoulders and started shoving him down the hall. “You agreed! No take-backies!”

“Wha-? Hey!” Keith dug his heels in, ineffective as it was against Lance's prodding. “What are you _doing_?!”

“Uh, heading to the bathroom.” Lance rolled his eyes.

“We have one in our rooms?”

“Not big enough,” Lance declared. “Besides, I think a bath is going to be the better option here. Unless you want me naked in the shower with you.”

“No.” Keith shook his head and finally managed to escape Lance's hold. “Absolutely not.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “You backing out on me mullet?”

The look on Keith's face said he very much wanted to, but he couldn't back down from the unspoken challenge. “No, I just… need to get some of my things. Shampoo, towel… spare clothes?”

“Oh, right.” Lance had forgotten about those things. What can he say? It’s been a long time, okay? “Right, you go get those, I’ll get the bath started.”

Keith gave him a sideways look but started back down the hallway. Lance watched him until he disappeared into his room, then took a big breath.

“Get it together, Lance!” he groaned to himself. He ran a firm hand through his hair and sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, like releasing his jittery thoughts, he let his lungs deflate.

Okay, first things first.

The bathroom was big, but not unfamiliar. Lance has used it quite a few times for his selfish nights. Many of the products he used sat lining the walls in easy reach of the showers or large hot tub he usually occupied. But he wasn't using either of those tonight.

Instead, he grabbed the conditioner and body soap from the many bottles and sauntered over to the smaller bath tub.

The stone floors had small tubs carved out of them in organic, comfortable shapes. Each one had a slight bowl hollowed out at one end where someone could get their hair washed without any strain. Honestly, they were perfect for what Lance had planned, just large enough for one person to rest comfortably, so Keith wouldn't feel cooped up or overly exposed.

Speaking of being exposed…

Lance strutted back to the line of bath products, wandering the line-up until he found what he was looking for. Pulling the bottle from the shelf, he popped the lid to take a sniff. The pink syrup-like liquid was a little strong, but he could dilute it with more water than he normally poured.

Decided, Lance took the bottle over and carefully scooped two fingerfuls into the tub before he started the water. As soon as the rippling, turbulent water touched the syrup, bubbles simmered up. Rinsing off his hand, Lance just set the bottle back in its place when a derisive snort came from the doorway. “A bubble bath?”

“They form a layer over the water so that you aren’t completely exposed.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want me to see your junk?”

Keith shuffled his feet, confident air gone in the face of Lance's bluntness. He clutched his towel and new set of clothes closer to his chest. “I thought I was taking a shower.”

“We can do that.” Lance shrugged. “But then I’d have to be naked in there with you and while I’m perfectly fine with showing off my god-like physique, I figured you might be uncomfortable.”

Keith wrinkled his nose. “When have you ever been worried about my comfort?”

“Since you allowed me to do this,” Lance answered seriously. He crossed the room to turn off the water in the tub, ignoring the way Keith’s shoulders drew up at his approach. “As a Dom, I need to keep my Subs comfortable in any scene we do. You aren’t a Sub, but that doesn’t mean that I can treat you any differently. It’s kind of in the rules or something like that.”

“You don’t sound too sure.” Keith frowned.

“I’m not exactly the most normal of Doms.” Lance crossed his arms. “But that’s nothing for you to worry about. Now, are you getting in or not?”

“Watching me undress kind of defeats the purpose of the bubbles, don’t you think?” Keith crossed his arms around the bundle of clothes and towel. Lance rolled his eyes but turned away. The brush of fabric hitting the ground sounded unnaturally loud in the empty bath hall. The _chink_ of Keith’s metal belt loop hitting tile echoed through the silence. A light splash and then: “Okay, you can turn around.”

Lance did so and had to hold back an amused snort.

Keith had curled in on himself at one end of the bath, knees surrounded by his arms. The water went as high as his chest, but that didn’t stop him from somehow getting bubbles all the way to his shoulders. He looked like a grumpy kitten.

“Well?” Keith demanded.

Lance sighed. “First of all, chill. I'm not out to attack you. You can take up as much room as you want.”

Keith shot him a bewildered look. “Aren't you going to…?”

“What? Join you? That's the entire reason that we skipped the shower, dude.” Lance rolled his eyes and grabbed a cup from another shelf off to the side. Beside it was a small wash rag that he bypassed, then thought better of. He took both to the tub where Keith had cautiously stretched out his legs. “And like I said, this is about me taking care of you. That doesn't mean I have to get in too.”

“So… what… _does_ it mean?” Keith hedged as he slipped a little lower in the water. The bubbles covered up to his armpits now. Lance knew the other would taking any coverage he could get. The Red Paladin treated any new situation the same as if he were neck-deep in Galra soldiers.

“It can mean anything you want it to,” Lance answered as he set the rest of his supplies down beside Keith. The teen eyed him distrustfully, like he thought Lance might jump him from behind. “I will admit, there's usually a lot more talking and figuring out scenes beforehand than we’ve done, but I’ve mostly ever done small things, so this is a first for me.”

“Small things?” Keith prompted. He flinched when Lance dropped the wash rag by his hip, then fished it out.

“Things I said before: brushing hair, giving massages, cooking food, painting nails –little stuff that, usually, won't trigger anyone.” Lance wrung out the wash cloth and started to lather it with soap.

“Trigger?” Keith frowned. “Like a gun?”

“No, though that might be where the terminology came from.” Lance decided the cloth had enough soapy bubbles on it and set the soap aside. He didn't move on to his task though, not quite yet. “To be triggered is to be reminded of something very unpleasant, most would say traumatizing. Some Subs have bad pasts that keep them from enjoying certain types of play. If someone had been tied up in a hostage situation, they would be triggered by bondage. If someone had an accident that left them temporarily blind, being blindfolded after they recovered could bring back bad memories. You see what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded in understanding. “I didn't realize there were so many things you had to think about for… scenes?”

“There's more than just the planning ahead of time. Even experienced pairs can still have a scene go wrong.” Lance fiddled with his jeans before deciding he should probably roll them up so they don't get too wet. “That's why everyone, Sub or Dom, is required to have a safe word. When that word is said, everything comes to a halt, no questions asked.”

“What if it doesn't?”

“Then you don't have a good Dom.” Lance paused to think. “Or Sub, it depends on the situation. Some Dom's can get cocky, but Subs can just as easily get aggressive. Like I said, it depends.”

“So do I… need a word?” Keith’s brow furrowed in thought, as if he were trying to figure out some magic spell.

“If you want one.” Lance shrugged. “If not, we can use the traffic light system.”

“The _what_?”

“Ever played red-light-green-light as a kid? Or ever driven a car?” Lance took off his jacket and threw it as far from the tub as he could. It was starting to get hot in there with the humid water. At Keith's affirmative noise, Lance continued his explanation. “It's kind of like that. Green is 'good to go’, yellow is ‘slow down and talk’, and red is 'stop’, plain and simple.”

“That's easy to remember,” Keith said, sinking a little further in the water. He was up to his shoulders now.

“Okay, so we'll go with that system,” Lance decided. “Now, here's my plan: I’m going to scrub you down, shampoo and condition your hair, then help you dry off. Anything you don't like the sound of?”

“... Everything,” Keith grumbled. He was up to his chin now, breath making the bubble piles jiggle.

Lance frowned and leaned back. “Keith… if you're really uncomfortable with this, I can go find someone else. I don't want to force you.”

“It's not that, it's just…” Keith ran a hand through his hair, got it stuck, and let out a sigh. “I'm already here. Let's do this, just… I'm cleaning my privates, okay?”

Lance's eyebrows furrowed as he opened his mouth to question if Keith was _really_ okay with it. But Keith glared at him, so Lance just pushed his worry away. “Yup, got it. Hands off the goods.”

Not like he wanted them there anyway.

Picking up the washrag, Lance held out a hand. “Arm please.”

Violet eyes watched him warily as one arm freed itself from the water and tentatively set itself in Lance’s hold. Lance adjusted his grip around the other’s wrist and set to work as clinically as he could. Had Keith been a Sub, and more importantly _Lance's_ Sub, Lance might have drawn this part out. He might have added flirtatious touches or trailing fingers. He might have offered a massage afterwards or maybe during the whole process.

But Keith wasn't, so Lance didn't.

He kept as methodical as possible. Up one arm to the shoulder, across the back and chest, then down the other arm. The act of cleaning was enough to keep his mind and hands busy, but it was the relaxing of Keith's muscles beneath his touch that settled the Dom in him. Keith may have started out uncomfortable, but Lance managed to assuage his nerves.

He was a good Dom.

Just as he was thinking this, Lance started up Keith's legs, from ankle to knee to-!

“H-hey!” Keith flailed in the water. “Lance stop! That's-! I-! Um, red?!”

Lance immediately froze and dropped the washcloth into the water. His hands came up just as fast, like he’d been burned. He stared wide-eyed at Keith, who just stared back.

“You, um…” even under a layer of bubbles and water, Lance could see the way Keith's shoulders curled in on themselves. “You were… I said not to go that far.”

Go that far…?

Oh, right.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_! Lance chastised himself beneath his apologetic grin. “Right, sorry. You're right. I just got into the groove and forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

He went to fish the washcloth out of the water and then handed it off to Keith. Violet eyes stared at him for a few long moments before pale hands took the hand towel from him and sunk back below the water. Lance politely turned away to grab Keith's shampoo bottle and didn't turn back around until he heard the _splat_ of wash cloth on the tile floors.

“You look spooked,” Keith said with a frown. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not… really?” Lance took a steadying breath. “No, you were uncomfortable and let me know and made sure I stopped. It's what I told you to do.”

“Then why are your hands shaking?” Keith asked, looking to the tenuous grip Lance had on the bottle.

“It's just… ‘Red’ usually means that the Dom did something _very_ bad, to the point where the Sub doesn't want to continue the scene. Everything stops at 'red’, no matter what the other wants,” Lance replied. His grip tightened to knuckle-white. “I know you're not a Sub and that you weren't triggered –there would be signs for that, but…”

Keith stared at him, those storm-cloud eyes picking apart his words like they were a hard to decipher pictograph. Thick eyebrows drew together as Keith finally spoke. “Would it have… been better if I said Yellow?”

_Yes_ , Lance wanted to say, _much, much better than jumping straight to red._ But he didn't, because that wasn't _right_.

He shook his head. “If you felt the scene needed to end, red is the right color to use.”

“I don't… want it to end,” Keith admitted, a light blush tinting his cheeks. Probably from the hot water. “I just didn't want your hands on my junk.”

Oh.

“In that case, yes, yellow would have been more appropriate,” Lance said hesitantly. “Does that mean you want me to…?” He held up the shampoo bottle.

Keith shrugged, sending tint waves of bubbles rippling out from his shoulders. “I'm already here, right?”

It wasn't a 'no’. It wasn't a 'yes’, but it was the closest thing to an answer Lance felt he would get. So instead of questioning more, he shifted to his feet to make his way around the bathing pool and back to Keith’s head. On his way, he pulled another cloth, a thicker, longer one that he rolled up into a tube.

Placing it at the dip in the edge of the tub, he tapped Keith's neck with a command of: “Rest back on this.”

“Shouldn't you do this over the tub? Won't water get everywhere?” Despite his questioning protests, Keith leaned his head back, slowly so Lance could pull his mullet-locks out from between him and the padded edge.

“The baths like this one all look to be made with these divots at one end,” Lance explained as he reached over for a cup he’d grabbed earlier. “They have a small drain at the bottom, so I kind of figured this is what they were made for? I never asked Allura though.”

“Hmmm…” Keith closed his eyes against the first splash of water. The droplets never even got _close_ to his eyes, the big baby. Instead of calling him on it, Lance just brushed his bangs back so that he could get at them without the other flinching. “I guess it makes sense.”

“Right? Though, why Alteans need them, I have no idea,” Lance commented as he worked Keith’s hair until it was soaked. “They don’t have Dom/Sub dynamics as far as I can tell, so there wouldn't be a point… unless they liked to spoil themselves”

“I think you're the only one like that, Lance,” Keith grumbled, nose twitching when Lance popped the lid of his shampoo bottle.

“Hey! It’s not spoiling! It’s called personal hygiene!” Lance huffed as he dug his fingers into Keith’s hair, thick with a lather already. “Something you could stand to learn about. You have terrible split ends!”

Keith grunted some kind of reply, but it was obvious that he wasn't focused on their conversation anymore. Lance just huffed to himself and worked his fingers more.

He started as the top of the scalp, experimenting with the pressure until he heard a pleased sound from Keith. Once he found the right amount of pressure, one hand worked suds towards Keith’s forehead, the other supporting the Red Paladin’s head to keep the strain off his neck. There, he worked enough suds to be satisfied and then worked his hand back down. Distributing weight against both hands, Lance dug his nails into the skin just behind Keith's ear… and nearly jumped at the strangled moan that fled Keith’s lips. Dark grey eyes snapped open, staring at Lance with surprise and embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Lance said automatically. “It’s a natural reaction.”

Those eyes went from fearful to wary in a blink. “...Really?”

“Yeah, scalp massage,” Lance answered. “It’s meant to feel good. If it doesn't, I'm doing it wrong.”

Keith stared for several more beats, before closing his eyes and relaxing again.

Lance withheld a relieved sigh.

Digging his fingers in again, he worked carefully, trying not to startle Keith again, but that noise, that unrestricted sound felt like a key to Keith’s real thoughts.

It did things for Lance.

When his fingers dug into the base of Keith’s skull, into the tense muscles that were sure to flow down his neck to even more. When Keith relaxed even further into his hands, turning boneless with a little sigh.

It did things for Lance.

When he reached for the cup, completely supporting Keith’s head at this point. When he sluiced water down thick locks of hair, Keith not even flinching against the splash of water, trusting Lance entirely.

It did things for Lance.

It did things for his inner Dom.

It made Lance want to do _more_ things for Keith. It made him want to let his fingers wander down that pale column of skin. Down to lithe shoulders and the tense muscles there. It made him want to touch more, _everywhere_ , everywhere that would make those sounds come back, that would make Keith slip just a little further into his trance.

But Lance couldn't.

He couldn't because Keith wasn't a Sub, and no matter how much he seemed like a Sub on the verge of a Drop, Lance knew it was just wishful thinking. No Sub would ever choose Lance and his backwards way of Dominating. Lance knew and accepted this.

Times like this were just a little harder to remember why.

“I'm going to condition your hair, okay?” Lance asked before he reached for the bottle. “Keith? Need a color here, buddy.”

“Mmm…” Keith groaned like he was waking from a nap. “Green.”

“Good,” Lance said, off-handedly. He used one hand to support Keith and the other to reach out, pop the lid, and squeeze out only a small amount straight onto Keith’s hair. Then he snapped it closed again and carefully worked the conditioner in, making sure that he got only the ends of Keith’s hair. If he got the scalp with this, it’d becoming greasy again within hours. Then Keith wouldn't be open to another time like this, should Lance need it. At least right now, Lance still had a shot.

Thoroughly worked in, Lance waited a few minutes to let the conditioner set, then went through the motions of rinsing it out. Keith’s hair still felt a little ratty under his fingers, most likely due to tangles. Lance knew he’d seen a comb around here somewhere.

“Hey, Keith.” Lance tapped him on the shoulder. “I'm going to find a comb. Rest your head on the towel.”

Keith groaned like that was the _last_ thing he wanted to do, but he complied. It didn't take long for Lance to find the comb he’d seen and soon he was back in his place, urging Keith to sit up. “I can’t hold your head _and_ comb out your hair. Combing requires two hands.”

“Just save it for later,” Keith grumbled, eyes half-lidded as he begrudgingly sat up.

“No way! If you do that, the tangles will set!” Lance squashed, affronted. “Trust me on this.”

“Trust you? The one with short hair?”

“Excuse you. My sisters have long hair! And they have me comb it every time they get out of the shower.”

“Not sure that’s something to be proud of.”

“Enough sass. Combing hair, color?”

“Are you going to ask that _every_ time?”

Lance shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Keith sighed. “Green.”

Permission granted, Lance carefully parted Keith’s hair into segments and got to work. He hadn't been lying about the practice. With years of experience under his belt, Lance was proud to say that he could comb through the worst tangles imaginable without the slightest flinch from his thin-skinned sisters.

It proved useful now, when Keith’s initial tension faded again and the tangles unraveled under his fingers. It only took a few minutes. Though Keith’s hair was thick, it was still relatively short and the tangles had less area to grab hold. When he was done, Lance patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, you’re good. Do you want to stay in or…?”

Keith let out a sigh. “I should probably get out. If I stay in any longer, I might fall asleep.”

“Real possibility, given that it’s an hour until lights out,” Lance noted, looking at the clock.

Surprised, Keith shifted, water sloshing around him. “It’s _what_ time?!”

“Hour ‘til dark?” Lance answered.

“I’ve been here for _two hours_?!”

“I’m sorry. Did you have something planned?” Lance felt the shakes start to come back. He’d messed up. He’d messed up _bad_. He had pulled Keith away from something for his own _stupid_ needs-!

“No!” Keith answered quickly, his face reddening. “Just… didn't expect it to be that long.”

“Oh.” Lance worried his bottom lip. “So… we’re cool?”

“I mean, yes?” Keith frowned at him. “I’d like to get out though, so if you could…?”

“Oh! Right!” Lance gathered up his tools and turned away. He kept his gaze away from Keith as the other toweled off and dressed in the change of clothes he’d brought. Instead of thinking of his teammate’s pale body, naked skin slick with water –no, Lance! –he pushed himself to remember the places where the various bottles belonged and threw the washrag into the laundry shoot.

“Hey…” Keith called, causing Lance to turn around. The Red Paladin stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the towel around his shoulders, bundle of dirty clothes pressed under his arm. Once he had Lance’s attention, he slowly assembled words together. “This… tonight… it was… good.”

“Yeah?” Lance felt his inner Dom preen, ridiculously happy with himself.

“Yeah.” Keith’s face went soft before he looked away, embarrassed. “I… wouldn’t mind if… if we did this again.”

Lance could hardly contain his excitement. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Keith looked to Lance, then headed out the door, throwing over his shoulder. “Feel free to come find me again.”

“Thanks Keith!”

Keith just held up a hand and disappeared into the hall.

Lance waited all of two seconds before fist-pumping and doing a little happy dance, exhilaration racing through his veins.

He’d done it! He’d had an actual scene! In _space_! Sure, Keith wasn’t a Sub, but who cares?! Keith liked it and wanted more and Lance hadn't scared him off-!

Lance smothered a delighted squeal between his hands.

Maybe being a Dom in space wouldn't be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron: Legendary Defender or its characters, only the idea of this fanfic.
> 
> PS - Getting into more mature situations and exploring Keith's and Lance's relationship a bit more. Again, no smut, but Lance does have a healthy imagination.

Lance lasted two weeks before he found himself outside Keith’s door again. He wasn’t nearly as nervous as before, hadn’t let himself degrade as far either, but he was still far too happy when Keith agreed to let him Dom. Just like before, Keith relaxed under his hands after the initial awkwardness and Lance found his Dom-side preening under the trust Keith showed.

Another two weeks, another ‘spa day’ as Lance had taken to calling them, then another week and…

Keith was the one to come to him after a hard-earned alliance with a nation of warriors turned slaves turned warriors again. The terms of the alliance had ended up being a show of strength, three warriors against three paladins.

Shiro and Keith were obvious picks, with Lance being a less obvious choice –only because Pidge (as a girl, sexist much?) wasn't allowed to fight and Hunk was a pacifist when it came down to it. Lance lost, but it was best two out of three and with Shiro’s win in the bag, it had come down to Keith to win them their alliance. It had been a tough fight, evenly matched, but Keith had managed to squeeze out a victory at the last minute.

If he wanted a Spa Day as a pseudo-reward, who was Lance to tell him ‘no’? Besides, he’d worked hard. He’d earned it and Lance made sure he knew that.

With Keith’s askance, their two week thing became a weekly event, typically happening after a mission of some sort that had Keith healing bruises and Lance feeling the strain of being a Dom in Space. Regardless of the when or why, it had become part of Lance’s routine and he wasn’t about to change it any time soon. No matter what the others thought when they found out.

And they would find out.

Hunk had already noticed Lance’s need to do little odds and ends. He’d put Lance to work in the kitchen, chopping ‘veggies and stirring sauces. Not quite the thing Lance needed, but that on top of this thing with Keith? He was getting by.

He got another outlet in the form of Pidge. He’s pretty sure Hunk put her up to it, but once she found out he knew ten different types of massages, she had enlisted his help in getting the knots worked out of her shoulders from being hunched over a computer all day.

Coran also asked Lance for help, pointing him to various parts of the castle that needed cleaning or maintenance. Then he proceeded to follow Lance around to talk about the ‘days of his youth’ which had far more tall tales than Lance would ever believe… maybe.

Shiro didn’t ask anything of Lance, but he found himself being an available ear when the leader had something to get off his chest, whether it be current on goings in the castle, the latest alliance, or memories of his past that he’d unearthed. Lance listened and listened well and enjoyed the small, grateful smile Shiro shared with him before leaving the Blue Paladin in peace.

Lance was pretty sure that Hunk was still the only one that knew his dynamic (and Keith), but he didn't care if they knew or not, so long as they didn't make a big deal about it.

So he was surprised one day when Allura stormed into the living room with the force of a cold front, only to stop in front of him, face perplexed. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Can I… help you?”

“Hunk said…” Allura stopped and crossed her arms. The movement drew attention to the hair brush in her hand. Seeing it, Lance’s eyes grew wide.

He smiled brightly. “Want me to brush your hair?”

Startled, Allura twisted her hand out to see the brush, looking to Lance and back. Warily, she nodded and handed him the brush when he held out his hand.

“Do you want to sit on the floor or the couch?” he asked, not minding either.

She sat down on the couch, side to him before slowly turning her back. Her hair was long and flowing as ever, but he saw where some tangles had taken root. Most likely, they had started when she put her hair into that large bun she used while in fighting gear. Then, they simply hadn’t been taken care of and had gotten worse with ever bun-up.

Starting at the sides, he segmented out smaller locks to start with. “This isn't what you originally came here for.”

She stiffened, her shoulders drawing up. “No, it is not.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” he said, drawing the brush through her hair. “Or ask anything. I'm a pretty open guy.”

“Hunk said…” she started again, tone less confrontational. “That you have needs that are not being met.”

Lance paused mid brush stroke, only to pick back up with a noise of interest.

“He said that some humans have different… dynamics,” she said haltingly. “And he said that you were…”

“One of them.” Lance let out a light sigh, not entirely sure how to explain something like Dom/Sub dynamics to a race of people who didn't _have_ any. “And you want to know what this means for the team?”

Allura nodded, squeaking when the action tugged against his brush. He carefully untangled it before starting his explanation.

“So, the first thing you should know is: my needs are being met,” Lance stated. “I’m a little weird for my Dynamic, but what it boils down to is: I like doing things for others. Helping Hunk in the kitchen, keeping Pidge from getting scoliosis, brushing your hair –it all helps me on some base level to even out my needs and wants. Hunk’s a little worried because I’m not the traditional Dom.”

“What does a traditional… Dom, did you say?” Allura couldn't see him nodding, but his pause was answer enough. “What does a traditional one do?”

“I guess it depends a little on the Sub they have, but it usually boils down to scenes with their Sub.” Lance frowned at a particularly stubborn knot. “For some, its bondage, others hand-feeding, some others are into… frankly humiliating things, but the Subs like it and they are consensual, so everything is good.”

“It doesn't _sound_ good.” Allura’s voice grew hard again. “And that’s something you feel the _need_ to do?”

“Like I said, I'm a bit of a special case.” Lance grimaced at her from behind, where she couldn't see. “Most Subs I tried scenes out with said that I was too soft-core for them. They didn't like that I didn't want to hurt them. Tie up? That's fine. Whip and flog them? No thanks. It became pretty apparent that I was something of an oddity at school.”

After a moment of silence to think, Allura spoke again, voice soft. “So… what happens if you ignore these… urges?”

“Short term? Nothing.” Lance picked the last knot apart with his fingers. “Long term? Shakes, jumpiness, paranoia, sometimes illness. It’s… something I’d rather avoid, all things considered.”

“That sounds terrible.” Allura turned to face him once Lance gave back the brush. “And you’re certain that your needs are being met?”

“Definitely.” Lance grinned. “The whole team has been a big help! I may not have a Sub of my own, but I can make do.”

Allura regarded him for a long moment. “And your dynamic… it is Dom, right?”

Lance cocked his head to the side. “Yeah?”

Before Allura could ask any more questions, Keith appeared in the hallway past her shoulder. The Red Paladin was still dressed in his uniform, having just returned from a three-man patrol to a neighboring moon. To anyone else, they would have thought the teen was just checking up on the rest of his crew, but not Lance. Lance knew that look in Keith's eyes.

Looks like Spa Day Friday again.

“Sorry, Allura! Got to go!” Lance hopped to his feet, an eager smile on his face. “Hey, Keith! Buddy! How was the mission?”

Keith scoffed and turned away. “Successful.”

Lance grinned.

*             *             *             *             *

Lance was tired. The mission that day had been a success, but only by the skin of their teeth. He ached in places he didn’t know _could_ ache and, really, he just wanted to sleep.

“Turning in early, Lance?” Shiro called as they passed each other in the hall.

“Yeah, think so.” Lance rolled his shoulder to work out a cramp. “Keith managed to save the mission, but it was close. I took a bad tumble and just kind of want to sleep it off.”

“Make sure to stretch before bed and take care of any scrapes,” Shiro advised, “and remember to set your alarm for tomorrow. We’ve got a diplomacy meeting first thing in the morning and I want all Paladins in attendance.”

Lance waved him off with a yawn. He made it about halfway through his skin-care routine before he nearly fell asleep in the sink. He figured he could afford to skip one night as long as he beefed up his morning routine.

He didn’t plan on being woken up three hours later by frantic pounding on his door.

Groaning, he grabbed as his alarm clock, but no, it wasn’t time to get up. It was the normal time he went to bed, when _everyone_ should be heading to bed.

“Lance!” The pounding continued. “Lance, open up!”

“Keith?” Lance grumbled, dazed. He nearly tripped over his blankets as he got out of bed. His eye mask pulled tight over his hair as he tried to blink his eyes enough to see but not be fully awake. He wanted to go back to sleep sometime today.

Head full of choice angry words, Lance yanked open the door-!

Only for all of those words to flee.

“L-Lance.” Keith stared at him, wide-eyed. Through the sleep pulling at his vision, Lance could see that the other looked wild. His hair was a mess, hands shaking badly, and his pupils were blown wide.

Was it a nightmare?

“W-what did I do?” Keith demanded with a shaky kind of desperation that instantly put Lance on guard. Keith didn’t get shaky, not unless something _big_ was going down. “What did I do _wrong_?”

“Wrong?” Lance frowned, brow furrowed under his sleep mask.

“I can fix it!” Keith swore like he was making a blood oath. “I promise, I can fix it! Just tell me what I did-!”

“Keith?” Shiro called from the end of the corridor. “Is it… is this another episode?”

Thank goodness Shiro was here! And that he seemed to know what was going on with Keith who was increasingly getting all up in Lance’s business.

“This doesn’t concern you, Shiro!” Keith snarled and –wow. Lance had _never_ seen Keith snarl at Shiro. Hunk? Pidge? Lance, himself? Sure, but _Shiro_? Never.

“I’m sorry, Lance. He just…” Shiro winced. “Gets like this sometimes. Usually right before he gets sick. I had thought being in space would prevent it –less germs, you know? But… Keith, why don’t you come with me and we’ll get you to bed.”

“I said this doesn’t concern-!” Keith squawked as Shiro physically grabbed him in order to tow the other away. “No! Let go! _Let me go_!”

Lance watched with wide eyes, all traces of sleep gone, as he watched their leader fight with their second-in-command in order to get him to bed. Keith did look shaky and a little wild-eyed, but sick? No…

This was something else.

“Shiro, wait!” Lance called as he took quick steps to follow the two. Shiro had Keith in a fighting hold, trying to wrestle the hot-headed pilot away. Keith almost looked like he was having a panic attack, chest heaving far more than normal exertion.

Locking eyes with Keith, Lance asked, calmly. “Keith, why do you think you’ve done anything wrong?”

“I was-! You-!” Keith looked like he wanted to snarl, but his expression caved in instead. “You weren’t there in the… even though it’s Friday and I-! _Today_ -! I was _good_! I was-! _Mission success_!”

“Really, Lance, he’s delusional,” Shiro said, giving Lance a sad look. “He won’t remember any of this later and I’d appreciate it if you don’t make fun of-!”

Shiro was wrong.

Lance knew what was going on and Keith wasn’t getting sick and delusional. He was _Dropping_ because Lance hadn’t shown up to their weekly ‘Spa Treatment’, even after Keith had single-handedly recovered their mission – _especially_ after that. Keith expected to be treated and _wasn’t_ and the only reason his mind could come up with was that he’d done something _wrong_ and deserving of punishment.

But… that couldn’t be it… right? Keith wasn’t a Sub. He couldn't _Drop_ , couldn't get sick because of it, couldn't-!

But he did and he was. It may not have made sense, but that didn't matter. Keith had trusted him and Lance had failed him.

Lance had to fix that.

“You’re right, Keith,” Lance said. “You were very good today. You were a great help to the team.”

Keith stopped struggling to watch Lance, transfixed.

“I’m sorry about missing our weekly scene,” Lance said. “I just thought I’d take a nap, long day, you know? I didn’t mean to oversleep.”

“So… I didn’t…?” Keith looked confused.

“No, you were perfect. In fact…” Lance looked to Shiro. “Shiro, let him go.”

Confused by the exchange, he did. Keith flailed aggressively away from his pseudo-brother, much to Shiro’s surprise. Lance gently took one of Keith’s trembling hands in his and smiled, even when those fingers crushed his tight. “Thank you for waking me up. How about we go there right now and get you all ‘spa-ed’ up, yeah?”

Keith nodded, eyes looking a little less wild as Lance led him away. Shiro stared after, confused.

Dozens of questions raced through Lance's mind, but now wasn’t the time. Now, he needed to get into the right mindset, needed to take care of the Sub that had been relying on him. There would be time after for questioning, when Keith was in his right mind.

Lance found the bathroom set up like he normally had it during their spa days, even though he distinctly remembered putting everything away last time and every time before that. Even the tub was filled, though the water had turned lukewarm.

“Did you set this up?” Lance asked, partly impressed, partly worried. Had Keith been waiting two hours for him before deciding to seek him out?

“Yeah, I…” Keith fidgeted at his side, wild eyes scanning the room. “Is it not right? Did I forget something? I’m sorry, I-!”

“No, no,” Lance said, not too hurriedly. Adding sharp words wouldn’t help the situation, no matter how calming they were meant to be. “You set up everything like I had it before. I hadn't been aware you were paying attention. Good job.”

Keith turned his gaze downwards, face reddening at the praise. Lance tugged off his robe, leaving himself in just his pajamas. His shirt followed next, like always, and deft fingers rolled up the legs of his pants. Kneeling by the tub, he put a testing hand in the water, only to hiss.

Yeah, definitely cold.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked, voice a fearful tenor. “I thought I did good?”

“You did,” Lance assured him, even as he reached for the plug at the bottom. “The water just got cold because I took too long.”

A chance glance up had Lance reeling at the look on Keith's face. It looked like the teen was watching his life go down the drain, like he was one step away from jumping in after it, clothes and all. Lance pressed a steadying hand to Keith’s hip, startling the other into looking at him.

“Hey.” Lance fixed him with a heavy stare. “Remember what I said? It’s not your fault. I took a nap, slept too long. The water got cold because of me. I don't want you bathing in cold water. You deserve something nice and hot.”

“I… I do?” The frantic look was softening, though he still looked a little too wild for Lance’s liking.

“You absolutely do,” Lance insisted as he turned to look at the almost empty tub. “So why don’t you just take a seat while I get this refilled for you?”

He had meant for Keith to take a seat on the bench in the small alcove that normally held their clothes and towels. Instead, Keith had taken it as an order and crumbled to his knees beside Lance.

Well, okay then.

Lance shifted closer in an effort to let Keith know that he was there, that he wouldn't leave. In response, Keith leaned heavily into his side. Re-plugging the tub and turning on the faucet, Lance was left with an awkward silence.

“So…” he started slowly. “You're a Sub?”

“Yes,” Keith said matter-of-factly. He didn't sound surprised in the least.

Lance frowned. “How long have you known you were a Sub?”

“Since a dynamics test at the Garrison.” Keith’s brow furrowed as he watched the steadily filling tub. “Though, the people at the Garrison didn’t believe it. I didn't believe it. I wasn't like other Subs. I didn't like being humiliated, couldn't understand why someone would _choose_ to be whipped or flogged. The whole thing just… didn't do it for me.”

“What convinced you?” Lance asked, before adding hurriedly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Shiro did, though he didn't realize it,” Keith admitted. “The Garrison commanders paired me up with him in a mentorship program. I was top in the class, but highly aggressive. If I wanted to stay in the program, he was my only shot.”

Keith drew his knees up and curled his arms around them. “Shiro thought that I just had too much time and energy on my hands. He decided to run me through my paces, every drill in the Garrison handbook –and then some. Every session we had left me panting on the floor, but… he’d always say ‘good job’ and give me a pat on the head and then it was like the past five hours meant nothing. It felt like I could keep going again and again and _again_ , as long as I knew he would do that afterwards.”

“That’s what convinced you?” Lance wasn’t skeptical. Some Subs had far less obvious awakening, but Keith never seemed to do things ‘small'.

“Not quite.” Keith winced, hands taking a grip on his biceps. “One day, Shiro didn't show up. I figured he was late, never mind that he never had been before. I told myself that I would get a head start on the drills, that he’d be pleased to see me taking his training so seriously.”

Keith’s face looked strained, his grip going knuckle white. “It wasn’t until three hours later that I noticed he never showed. I asked around about him, trying to track him down. I didn't know why, but I needed to find him. _Needed_ to.”

Lance felt his heart drop into his stomach. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“I found him in his room, working on homework. Turns out, he had emailed me that morning saying that he couldn't make it to our session, had a meeting or a test, I can't remember. I just remember being frantic, asking what I’d done wrong, how could I _fix it_ -!” Keith let out a shuddering breath.

“Shhh…” Lance hushed him reaching out to stroke his shoulder down to his ribs and back up. “Breathe, Keith. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Keith took a few minutes to follow Lance's command. When he finally got control of himself, he continued in a detached voice. “After that, I only remember waking up in the nurse’s office three days later. She couldn't figure out my symptoms as anything but cold-like, but I knew. I had done research. I knew that I had suffered a Drop, a _bad_ one, but I couldn't stop myself. It happened over and over with Shiro being none the wiser. I should have told him-!”

“You were a Sub looking for a Dom, but couldn't trust anyone to keep your best interests at heart,” Lance explained. “It makes sense that you would cling to that closest form of control you had –to Shiro, your mentor and almost brother, even if he isn’t a Dom. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

Keith looked up, eyes searching. “It’s not?”

“No, not at all. Even Doms get like that sometimes.” Lance shrugged. “Why do you think I'm so fixated on my family? For me, they were the ones I took care of. Without that outlet, I feel like I'm just…”

“Floating in space without an anchor?” Keith asked, a tentative smile on his lips.

“Couldn't have put it better myself.” Lance returned his own grin before reaching out to stop the tap. “Now, before we begin, I need to ask: Do you want me to treat you like my Sub?”

Keith grimaced, gaze suddenly wary. “Isn't… isn't that what you've been doing?”

“I’ve been doing the very basic, just enough to keep my instincts from rebelling on me and, apparently, yours from downing you in a fight,” Lance explained. “I can do more, _want to do more_ , but if the basic is all you want, I won't push.”

“... You'll be mad if I don't want more,” Keith said testily.

“I won't,” Lance promised. “I will be mad if you just go along with it because you think I want it, not because you do.”

Keith’s eyes widened slightly before his stare cut to the side.

Lance reached out carefully to guide his gaze back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to make a final decision now. You can decide one way here and change your mind later. There's no need to tear yourself up over this.”

Keith's lips parted, words at the ready, before he bit his bottom lip, then tried again. “I… want to be your Sub… for tonight.”

Lance barely held back the wave of desire at the words. Something that intense would surely scare Keith off if it showed on his face. Stroking the other teen’s jaw, Lance pulled back to give the other room. “Good boy. I know it was a tough decision for you. I’ll make sure you don't regret it.”

Just his words were enough to send a shiver down Keith’s spine.

“Why don't you go ahead and put your clothes over there?” Lance urged. “Then we can get started.”

Without a second thought, Keith leapt up to follow his quasi-command. Before he ever made it to the bench, he was already stripping off his shirt, motions frantic like he thought Lance might leave if he wasn’t fast enough.

“Slow down,” Lance ordered, and when Keith threw his clothing into a crumpled heap: “Pick your shirt back up. Fold it nicely.”

Keith paused with his hands on his belt. Dark eyes turned back, wide with surprise. “Aren't you…”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Keith?”

Keith’s fingers tightened on the leather strap. “You usually turn around.”

“That's when I am not treating you like my Sub,” Lance explained gently, eyes sharp as they roamed over Keith’s chest. He’s seen that much before, both in their bathing sessions and after training drills. Somehow, knowing that Keith wanted Lance to treat him like _his_ Sub suddenly made the pale expanse of flesh far more enticing.

Keith’s shoulders drew up. “I… I don't…”

Ah, Lance may have overstepped too soon.

“Keith, I like to see my subs. _All_ of my Subs. I would like to see all of _you_.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Color?”

“I… I’m not… pretty… to look at,” Keith muttered.

“That is my decision to make, not yours,” Lance said, a hint of his Dom voice leaking through. He hated it when his Subs belittled themselves, especially one as amazing as _Keith_. “Color?”

Face reddening, Keith ducked his head. “... Green.”

“That’s good, _bonito_. And when you get in the tub, I want to run my fingers over that beautiful skin,” Lance continued, eyes growing heavy with want. “I want to trace your muscles with my fingers, caress every inch available to me, and I want you to _like it_.”

Keith let out some strangled noise as his eyes came up, wide as dinner plates to stare at Lance in shock and _need_.

“Color?” Lance asked. When all Keith did was stare, Lance called out again, this time making it a command. “Keith. Color.”

“G-green,” Keith said, breathily.

“I want to make sure you know, when I say every inch,” –Lance let his gaze fall pointedly to Keith’s waist– “I mean _every_ inch.”

“Will…” Keith swallowed thickly, making Lance watch as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Will we...s-sex?”

Lance felt a stab of desire low in his stomach, but refrained from answering too quickly. In truth, he wanted to. There was no denying that Keith was a very attractive person and he was putting _all of himself_ in Lance's hands without question. Lance had no doubt that, if he wanted, Keith would go right along with it. And he _so wanted_ , but…

“No. We aren't.”

Keith made a lower inquisitive whimper.

“I want us both to talk it out before we decide to do it,” Lance said. “I don't want our first time to be because you think you need to please me. I know you are lucid enough to make decisions,” he said, cutting off Keith's complaint. “But I don't want it to be a heat-of-the-moment thing that either of us could regret. Okay?”

Keith looked downtrodden, but nodded in agreement.

“Good,” Lance said, letting his Dom voice leak further into his words. “Now, finish undressing. I want to see you.”

Fingers fumbled with his belt and the rest of his pants.

“And don't forget to pick up your shirt,” Lance added. “No Sub of mine is going to be a slob.”

Keith nearly tripped over himself as he sank to the ground to pick up his shirt, pants sagging low. Shirt folded on the bench, he regained enough coordination to shimmy his pants off to join his shirt, folded neatly as well. Then all that was left were his boxers.

Lance saw him hesitate. “Keith… _carino_ , if you feel uncomfortable, you don't have to do this. We can do it like we’ve always done until now.”

“I want to!” Keith’s shoulders drew up. “I want those things you said before! I want to be _your_ Sub! I want… I just _want_!”

Lance opened his mouth, but no words came.

Then Keith dropped his pants and he was _really_ speechless.

Lance knew that Keith was fit and lithe, but that in no way prepared him for… that.

Damn.

Unconsciously, he licked his lips, his lids dropping again with a bubble of arousal in his stomach. And to think, all of that was his…

“Hey...”

No, no, no! Not the time for that! Lance had said no sex and he _meant_ it! No second guessing now!

“Lance?”

Shaking his head, Lance refocused his gaze onto his teammate –his Sub for the night. “Yeah, Keith?”

In his moment of hazy arousal, Keith had stalked over to the tub where the water steamed pleasantly. His toes curled around the lip, the only sign of how much he was holding himself back. “Can I get in?”

Lance smiled and offered a hand for balance.

Keith let out a hiss, then a sigh as the heated water rippled against his sore muscles. There were a few scrapes and bruises from their mission that Lance noted to be careful with, but for the most part, Keith’s fatigue was just that: exhaustion of a long, hard day and near-Drop. He definitely deserved a little pampering.

“Soap first,” Lance said, forgoing the usual wash rag in order to lather up his hands instead. At Keith's confused look, Lance raised an eyebrow. “I did say that I wanted to run my fingers over every inch of you, right? There are more ways than sex to do that, you know.”

Keith’s face went red and he sunk a little lower in the bath, but he offered his arm when Lance held out his hands.

Before, Lance had taken a clinical method of cleaning with the other Paladin. He hadn't wanted to overwhelm the other or scare him off entirely. Now though? With Keith’s permission?

He upped the ante.

Instead of strong, perfunctory scrubs with cloth, Lance first scrubbed lather down Keith’s arm, then followed with sensual touches. Gentle, calloused fingers to the soft areas like the inner forearm or tense muscles of the neck. Short, delicate nails to the more thick-skinned areas, tracing goose-bumps up biceps. Alternating them when necessary, Lance kept an eye on Keith, cataloguing his reactions and what he did and didn't like.

And boy, did Keith like all of it.

His eyes glazed over as Lance let his fingers dance up his shoulder and across to his other. He breathed deeply when Lance smoothed his hands down his chest and back. Deft nails at his feet had a strangled grunt and indignant whimper flittering through the air. Lance was having so much fun finding Keith's weak points, but all too soon, that fun drew to an end.

He had already used far more time than normal to wash Keith's body. If he wanted to keep on schedule and be well rested for the diplomacy meeting in the morning, he would have to move on. It was fine, though. The next part was washing Keith’s hair and Lance already had a system down pat. He didn’t wander far from their usual routine, but only because Keith normally looked as if he were on the edge of Subspace throughout the whole thing.

...because he _was_ on the edge.

Lance wanted to smack himself.

Keith was a Sub and, apparently, liked Lance’s pampering so much that he sought him out. It wouldn’t be too far a stretch of the imagination to think that Keith might have already been feeling the effects of Lance’s magical hands long before then. But if so, he had never fully dropped into Subspace, had never felt that wonderful feeling Subs used to attempt to describe to Lance.

With a sudden fervor, Lance wanted him to experience that, _badly_.

But how?

What could tip him over the edge?

As he finished combing out Keith’s hair, Lance got an idea. Reaching out, he squeezed Keith’s shoulder, right where it met with his neck, and rubbed his thumb against stiff muscles.

“Done?” Keith asked, voice a little hazy, not in sleep like Lance had first thought so many weeks ago. He really wanted to slap his past-self.

“Not quite yet. I want to try something,” Lance said as he stood. “Come on, up you go.”

As Keith slowly pulled himself from the tub, Lance went to retrieve his towel and returned, wrapping Keith in its fluffy embrace as well as his own. The Red Paladin let out a thankful groan and leaned heavily into Lance’s side. Lance felt a thrill go up his spine at Keith’s pliant form.

“Over here. On the bench,” Lance instructed, walking Keith over. He offered the other fresh underwear as Lance took to drying his wet hair. Once Keith was mostly dry, Lance urged him to lay out on the bench, the rest of his stuff having been moved to the side.

Stomach down and towel over his legs, Keith looked back with one hazy eye, questioning. That gaze grew wide with surprise when Lance straddled his hips and sat himself firmly on the pale teen’s lower back. “L-Lance? I thought we were…?”

“Shh…” Lance hushed. “I just want to give you a massage. Work those muscles of yours out so that you wake up refreshed tomorrow. Color?”

Keith let out a wanting sigh. “Green.”

Exactly what he wanted to hear.

Without further talk or hesitation, Lance trailed his fingers over the other's back, searching out the spots that he’d found earlier. Keith’s shoulders were tense from his constant training sessions and the stiff muscles there only grew more knotted as they reached towards his spine and lower back. It would probably take more than one session to smooth them out entirely, but Lance knew he could make a big dent in them tonight.

Digging his thumbs in along the base of Keith’s neck, Lance slowly watched them apart, feeling the corded muscles underneath resist. Keith let out a hiss of pain, but it faded into a low moan of pleasure. Goosebumps rose up against his bath-heated skin.

“Right there?” Lance asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yesh…” Keith said, voice muffled from where his mouth was half-smooshed on the bench. His eyelids dropped low as Lance dug in again, really getting to work.

The Dom kept an eye on the Sub as he pressed and pulled and stroked the first knot away. His thumbs worked solidly down Keith’s spine, out along the trapezoidal muscles and down between his shoulder blades.

Every once in a while, Keith’s eyes would tighten as a particular knot fell prey to Lance's magic fingers, but then they'd smooth out as Lance soothed the pain and he'd fall a little deeper, a little closer to his Subspace. Lance couldn't wait for the moment when he would tip over the edge.

It happened between one breath and another. Lance had a difficult knot under his knuckle, pressing hard to trick the muscles into relaxing. Keith’s brow was furrowed in discomfort right until Lance released the pressure, then he was gone.

“Keith?” Lance called gently, not letting up on the massage. “You with me, _bonito_?”

The hum in reply was the closest answer Lance was going to get. The pale teen’s eyes had glazed over entirely, almost appearing asleep except for the way they stared. His face still twitched now and again and he made soft noises to aid Lance in his progress, but Keith was firmly out of his head.

Lance drew his hands down Keith’s back and ribs one last time as he sat back on his heels. Most of the knots had been worked over, some worked out entirely. Others, he would need to let rest before he went at them again. He could move on to other places, turn the back massage into a full-body one, but Lance wasn’t keen on doing so without Keith’s permission and Keith wasn’t up to talking any time soon.

When a light shiver passed over the pale body beneath him, Lance made up his mind.

Stretching out, he snatched up his Altean robe to drape over the both of them as he laid down on top of Keith, careful to keep his weight from crushing the other. Skin contact was one of the biggest concerns with after-care. Lance figured that laying here, bare chest to back, he could keep an eye on his Sub and provide the necessary comfort at the same time.

He knew they still needed to talk about this… whatever it was. He needed to know what Keith wanted out of it, what he liked and didn't and Keith needed to know the same about Lance. They would talk.

It just… would come after a nice nap and diplomacy meeting the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was more focused on the mental aspects in this one instead of the physical, as you probably saw. I'll try to do more of a balance next week, but I know what I want to cover, so we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Thank you for tuning in again!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defenders or its characters, only the idea behind this fic.
> 
> PS - There were a lot of ideas that I got feedback on, some that might inspire more chapters to this fic. As it is now, though, this will be the last chapter for now. I have another fic in this fandom that I'm working on, but it's a much longer piece, so it'll be a while before that's done.
> 
> Anyway, it was great to write for you all! :) See you next time!

They never talked.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have time; it was just… never the right time. Soon after the reveal of Keith’s Sub nature, came a reveal of _another_ sort. Allura was angry, the team was divided, and then Shiro was _gone_ and Keith was the Black Paladin. It took everything in Lance during those days to keep both Keith and himself balanced and able to function and then, _and then_ …

And then Shiro was back. And Keith was with the Blade of Marmora and he was gone, gone, _gone_ , for weeks on some top secret mission.

Don’t get Lance wrong. He knows how important Keith’s involvement with the Blade is to the Red… Black… to the other Paladin. Lance knows that it’s some weird way of connecting with his family and if Lance had the chance to do the same, he would take it in a heartbeat-!

But Keith’s absence was hitting him, hard.

In the beginning, it was fine. Lance had himself balanced out and still had Hunk’s, Pidge’s and Allura’s efforts to keep him stable. Besides, he’d gone several weeks in the beginning before he’d broken down and asked Keith for a hand. Lance knew he could hold out until Keith returned as long as the status quo remained.

Thing was, it didn't.

Without Keith, the team was different. _Shiro_ was different. Shiro was argumentative, dismissive, just plain _mean_. He grilled Lance on his failures, pointed out his flaws, even as Shiro’s own plans fell apart and if he had just _asked Lance for his advice none of this would have_ -!

Nitpicking was something Lance could usually ignore, but after weeks and weeks of his ineptitude being brought to light, Lance could only clench his fists tighter to keep back the shakes.

So news of a meet up with the Blade of Marmora, with _Keith_ , seemed like a light at the end of the tunnel… right up until Lance saw Keith.

The half-Galra looked no different to how he had left them. He stood tall, hood pulled up over his new uniform. His eyes looked just as observant as before, feeling as if he could see straight into Lance’s soul, see all the shortcomings that Lance kept hidden away.

He didn't look like he was being tormented by their time away. He looked like he barely noticed the weeks between.

It didn't bode well.

“Hey, Keith!” Lance called as Allura stepped aside with Shiro and two leaders of the Blade to discuss matters. Pidge and Hunk were attempting to get some info about the Blade’s technology from a couple of tight-lipped members and Coran was still on the ship, so Lance didn't expect anyone to interrupt them. “It’s been awhile. Did you want to… get cleaned up?”

It was the nicest way to say it in front of the Blade’s entourage. Lance had been looking forward to this meeting so much that he couldn’t even imagine Keith saying ‘no’.

Which is why it surprised him when he did.

“Sorry, Lance, now's not the time,” Keith said stiffly. “We’re only here for a few hours and then we’re off to the next mission.”

Lance… couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yes, the last few weeks were harder than usual, but surely even Keith was feeling their separation! At least a little bit?

Lance reached out a shaking hand. “Keith? Buddy, come on-!”

“The mission takes precedence,” Keith said in a low monotone before his face softened the slightest bit. “I’m sorry, Lance.”

Then he turned away and disappeared further into the Blade’s ship.

Rubbing at the pain in his chest, Lance frowned at Keith’s blatant dismissal. That was… new.

Ever since Lance first asked, Keith had enjoyed their spa sessions. After he nearly went into a Drop, Lance had made sure to give Keith plenty of opportunities to get a break he mentally needed and Keith had taken every one of them.

Every single one but this one.

What has the Blade done?

“Wow, he really doesn’t stop for anything, does he?” One Blade member commented from off to Lance’s right.

“He doesn’t,” the other replied. “Keith is truly a superb Dom.”

“Most definitely,” the first agreed. “Almost to the level of Zarkon! With him on our side…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance waved his hands as he walked over to the Blade members. “You guys know of Earth dynamics?”

The Blade members shared a look before the first shook his head. “We know not of these dynamics of yours. We were speaking of Galran dynamics —Dominants and Submissives.”

Lance frowned. “And you think Keith is…?”

“Dominant,” the second replied. “He has achieved each mission with resounding success. He never wastes resources and always makes sure that the largest number of men possible return to our ranks. In combat, he is second to none. He is far and above the greatest Dom we have encountered in years.”

“Of course, he has never asked for a reward,” the first looked worried. “Most Doms request for the Subs to wait on them after completing particularly hard missions. If they don’t, they can become unstable. Yet, when we suggested it, Keith had turned it away and hid in his quarters.”

_I’ll bet._ Lance sighed inwardly before asking. “What do you mean by ‘Subs waiting on him’? Like slaves?”

“No, no, no!” The second Blade member waved the notion away. “Subs take enjoyment on waiting on Doms. Simple things like brushing their hair, tending their wounds, and massaging away muscle strain fall to the Subs. Of course, there can be more sexual things, but most of those usually when a Dom and a Sub have signed a contract together.”

“So let me get this straight.” Lance gestured with his hands. “Subs do the _taking care_. Doms get taken care _of_.”

At twin nods, Lance groaned aloud. _Oh, Keith_.

“All right, Paladins, let’s —Lance?” Allura looked over to where Lance was groaning into his hands. “Are you all right? We need to get going.”

“Hold up a second, Princess!” Lance whirled on her with a pointed finger. “When were you going to tell me that the Galra have similar dynamics to Earth?!”

Allura stared at him in confusion before flushing red. “I… I didn't-! It never seemed to-!”

“Come up?” Lance crossed his arms. “Like when you were asking me about my own dynamic?” He paused for a second, then turned on the two members he had been talking to. “Wait, you said Zarkon was a _Dom_?!”

They shared a look, then nodded.

“And, if your ‘Dom’ is an Earth ‘Sub’, then-!” Lance sputtered. “ _Zarkon went evil because someone didn't **brush his hair**?!”_

Allura looked both shame-faced and uncomfortable. “Lance, this really isn’t the time-!”

“No, it is _not_ the time!” Lance snapped back. “Because they just called Keith a Dom, and said that Keith hasn't been getting the treatment he needs to keep him stable and if this keeps going on, Keith will turn into Zarkon!”

The Blade members shuffled uneasily, even the leaders that had followed Allura and Shiro out. Allura turned on them, mission face on. “Is this true?”

“... Indeed,” the leader answered

“But not without much trying on our part,” the second in command protested.

“Keith simply does not wish to partake in the Submissives that volunteer on our ship,” the leader continued. “And we cannot force him to…”

“You can't, but _I_ can,” Lance cut in. “How long until you need to take off for your next mission?”

The leader and his second in command shared a look before the first mate replied. “We can give you until the sun sets on Agria.”

Rough translation, half a day.

Okay, he can make that work.

“Don't leave until I'm done with him,” Lance ordered before turning and boarding the Blade’s ship.

Far behind him, he heard Allura speak. “Hunk, perhaps we should hear more about Earth dynamics…” but he paid her no mind.

He had a bratty Sub to find.

*             *             *             *             *

In hind sight, Lance probably should have asked a Blade member for directions to Keith’s quarters, but he managed to make his way on his own.

In the last room he search (because it was always the last room), he found Keith lying on his bed. The pale teen had an arm thrown over his eyes, hood bunched at his neck.

“Go away, Ulaz,” Keith grunted. “I'm not in the mood.”

“Not sure who Ulaz is, but I’m positive I'm not him.” Lance let the door slide shut behind him and lock in place.

Keith bolted upright in his bed, eyes wide. “Lance?!”

Blue eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms and canted his hip. “Keith.”

“What are you doing here?” Keith demanded, getting to his feet. “You shouldn't be-!”

“ _Sit down_ ,” Lance ordered with a healthy dose of Dom. Keith dropped back to the bed, face stunned. “Now, do you want to tell me why you are completely incapable of taking care of yourself?”

“Wha… what?” Keith looked a little wide-eyed and daze. Lance took a measured step forward.

“Or perhaps, you want to explain why you didn't tell me when the Galra started calling you a Dom?” Lance took another measured step. “It would have cleared the air better than acting like some stuck-up brat.”

“Lance, I-!”

“Or maybe, you want to tell me why, even after being called a _Dom_.” Lance stopped in front of him, posture rigid. “You still refused to allow a Sub to take care of you and keep you _stable_.”

Under his harsh stare, Keith trembled, eyes wide and lips twitching as of to speak, but no words came. This close, Lance could see the other’s state. Could see the way Keith’s hair looked unkempt. Could see the dark circles under his eyes. Could see the way he trembled far too much for simple fear.

Keith looked ready to shake himself apart.

“Oh, _bonito_ …” Lance crooned, reaching one hand out to stroke his fingers down Keith’s jaw. “What did you do to yourself?”

Keith let out a shudder and deflated into Lance’s palm.

“I…” Keith swallowed thickly. “They said I was a Dom, not… not a…”

“That’s their word for Sub, Keith,” Lance said, drawing that dark gaze up to his face. “Their dynamics are switched. Subs take care of others. Doms get taken care of. They may call you a Dom, but they would call me a Sub. That doesn’t change our parts.”

Keith looked shocked, like this was news to him. For all Lance knew, it might be. After all, Allura said nothing to him.

“But even if you were a different dynamic, that doesn't mean you couldn't go to the Subs, Keith.” Lance frowned at him, stroking his thumb across his cheek. “Or even come to me when we met up. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I… I thought something was wrong with me,” Keith confessed. “I couldn’t do for the Subs what you do for me, but when they called me a Dom, I thought that I couldn't-! I thought that I _had_ to be like you, treat others the way you treated me. I thought that I was broken because I didn’t think like you! I couldn’t _be_ like you! So I tried to fix myself, tried so hard, but nothing felt _right_ -!”

“Shhh…” Lance knelt in front of his Sub, taking Keith’s face in his hands. “Keith, look at me.”

Dark, wild eyes locked with his like a command. Lance felt his breath catch in his throat at the trust in that gaze.

“Keith, you are not broken,” Lance said sternly, but soothing. “Whatever your title is, be it Sub, Dom, or Neutral —whatever you are, if there is something I can do to keep you healthy and happy, _never_ be afraid to ask for it. Never. Got it?”

Tears collected in the corners of that dark gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

The title sent a shiver up Lance’s spine. It wasn’t something they had had time to mess with before Keith had taken off for missions. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it, with his own history with the Garrison, but Keith only used it when he really needed to be taken out of his head.

It seemed that he was further along than Lance had thought.

“Good boy, good Keith,” Lance soothed as his hands trailed up and back to run deft fingers through Keith’s hair. “It looks like you need a break. Is there a bath somewhere on this ship?”

Keith shook his head. “I have a shower, but tubs take up too much room.”

“Hmm… we could go over to the Altean one,” Lance mused. He stopped short when Keith shook his head. “Why not? It’s where we’ve always gone before.”

“Don’t want them… to see.” Keith looked down, face reddening. “I'm a mess.”

“Oh, _carino_.” Lance smiled softly. “We both are. But all right, I won’t make you walk out of here if your pride can’t handle it.”

“It’s not…” Keith paused, biting at his lip. “I only… want you to see me like this.”

That was… Lance felt heat flutter under his skin. The Dom in him loved the fact that his Sub was not only comfortable to share his weakness with Lance, but that he wanted _only_ Lance there. This was a face that only _Lance_ got to see.

It made something hot twist in his chest.

“Then shall I make you undone, _carino_?” Lance’s smile turned confident at Keith’s eager nod. “Then let’s get those clothes off you.”

Eager fingers went to Keith’s uniform, but Lance caught his hands before Keith could go any further. Keith tipped his head down with a questioning noise.

“No, I’ll do it,” Lance said, eyes sharp. “I want your hands behind your back.”

“But…” Keith frowned in confusion. “You don’t know how to take it off.”

“Then explain it to me,” Lance ordered. At Keith’s reluctance, Lance looked him in the eye. “Keith, this is your punishment for not asking for help.”

Keith went stock-still, eyes wide and Lance knew why. Punishment was something they hadn’t touched in all their scenes together, mainly because Keith obsessed over his faults as it was. Usually, it was Lance talking him through things to show that Keith was blowing his failures out of proportion, just like Lance was prone to.

Now, however, Lance wanted to get it through his Sub’s thick skull that he couldn't just shove off his mental health because it wasn’t convenient for others. Now was the time to use a firm hand.

“You don't want to rely on others to help you, so your punishment will be to keep your hands behind your back. You will rely on me,” Lance explained as he guided Keith’s hands behind him. “And since you seem to have trouble communicating your needs to others, you’ll be getting some practice on using your words. Tell me how to undress you.”

Keith opened and closed his mouth several times. Lance felt the Sub’s hands start to shake where they were held in his.

“Keith?” Lance pressed his forehead to Keith’s making sure those dark eyes were on him. “Give me a color, Keith.”

“Y-yellow,” Keith stuttered out. Immediately, Lance let go of his wrists to pet at his hair instead. It still took a few minutes for Keith to gather his words. “Y-you… are you… really mad? Did I… did I mess up?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Keith, I’m not happy,” Lance said firmly. He dug his fingers into Keith’s dark locks when the other’s eyes grew frantic. “But more than that, I was scared that you were endangering yourself on purpose for no good reason. Were you even aware of what you were doing to yourself?”

“I can… I can do better!” Keith promised recklessly. “I won't-!”

“I don't doubt you’ll try. Some things are out of your control, but I know you’ll do your best.” Lance slid his fingers down to cup his Sub’s face. “Now, Keith, the real question is: do you feel like you deserve punishment?”

That made Keith pause.

“Because, if you don't…” Lance looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. “I will trust you, Keith. If you don’t think you need it, I won't punish you.”

Keith’s jaw trembled under Lance's touch before he hung his head. “I do.”

“Do what?”

“I need it, Lance,” Keith said, his voice cracking. “I don't want it, but… but I _need_ it.”

“I’ve got you, babe.” Lance pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Color?”

“Green.”

Lance touched briefly at the other’s wrists. “Keep your hands behind your back. I won't tie you up. I trust you to keep them out of the way unless I move them, got it?”

Keith nodded his head, eyes slowly dilating.

“Now, walk me through this,” Lance ordered, dipping into his Dom voice. “Where’s the zipper?”

“Neck, under the left ear,” Keith whispered dutifully. “It draws down the neck to the collarbone, then down the left pectoral to the fourth rib. There, it’s a diagonal to the hip and all the way down. Belt goes off first.”

“They really don’t make these things easy to get out of do they?” Lance noted as he worked at the zipper. The stubborn metal clasp didn't want to move more than a few inches at a time.

“They are made for optimal defense,” Keith replied. He paused before adding. “They are not made for sex on the battlefield.”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, not surprised.”

He finally got the zipper down to Keith’s calf where it decided to behave for once. Proud of his work, Lance looked up to smile at Keith, only for his mouth to go dry.

Keith stared down at him with dark eyes and messy hair, ruffled from Lance’s fingers. The various peaks of skin beneath his uniform made Lance feel like he was seeing something forbidden, but that wasn’t what caught his eyes.

Beneath Keith’s jaw, just hidden by the last inch of Uniform fabric, was a collar, _his_ collar.

It had been weeks since Lance had last used it, since he’d last _seen_ it. It was something they had taken to playing with in some of the more strenuous scenes. Lance had liked the look of ownership on his (not-really-his) Sub and Keith had indulged him, even if it hadn’t gone as far as an actual contract. He hadn’t thought Keith had gotten anything out of those scenes —thought it was just one of Lance’s kinks —but to find his missing collar _here_ of all places.

Lance reached up with trembling fingers. “You’re… wearing it?”

Keith’s eyes went wide and troubled, like he had forgotten about the thin strip of fabric. “I… you didn't say… I couldn't?”

“I didn't think you liked it…”

“It...helped,” Keith said, face growing dark in a blush. “It’s like… you were still with me… even here.”

That simple remark had fire alighting in Lance’s stomach. He surged up to claim Keith’s lips, passionate, yet gentle, as owning as the silken collar around his neck. His fingers slipped under the soft fabric as the force of his passion nearly pushed his Sub over. Keith whined and yielded, one of the few times he didn't feel the need to challenge Lance’s claim. It made Lance feel all the hotter for it.

Pulling away with a last nip to Keith’s bottom lip, Lance inhaled deeply, basking in _his_ Paladin’s scent. “Sometimes, I don’t think you know what you do to me. Other times…” Lance ran a thumb along Keith’s bitten lip. “I think you know too well.”

“Lance,” Keith breathed. “Please…”

“Mmm…” Lance wanted to, so very badly, but he couldn't. Keith looked about ready to shake apart and Lance himself wasn’t much better. He didn't want to risk a Drop in the middle of sex —those never ended well.

“I’ll take care of you, remember?” he said instead. He tugged at the Blade uniform to begin unraveling his Sub’s body. “A nice hot shower, my fingers through your hair… Doesn't that sound nice?”

Keith let out a wanting whine and nodded earnestly. “Please. Just want you. Want you… to touch me…”

“Someone’s getting good at their words.” Lance trailed a hand down his chest, relishing in the newly exposed skin. There was a new scar here, a healing bruise there, minor injuries born of their constant defense of the universe. But beneath those was still the warrior’s heart that never failed to draw Lance in.

He tapped at Keith’s right leg in silent command. Keith raised it and with one last tug, was divested of his uniform, leaving nothing but his boxer-briefs and collar in place.

Lance licked his lips. “Where’s your shower?”

“Ov-over there.” Keith nodded to a small doorway. Lance sauntered over, opening the doors to get a look at what he had to work with.

‘Small’ was the first word that came to mind.

The entire space would fit in only _half_ of Lance’s bathroom on the Castle Ship —and he didn't mean the bathing area. He meant his actual attached bathroom.

The entire space was utilitarian with a small toilet scrunched up in front of the sink, leaving just enough space for someone to stand and wash their hands. The other half held the shower. Forget about getting two of them in there, Lance wasn’t sure about getting _one_. There was no way two grown men would be able to fit in the shower unless they somehow merged together or…!

Oh. Now there’s a thought.

He turned to Keith, seeing those dark eyes watching him, looking for approval. He pointed to the empty space at his side. “Come here.”

Immediately, Keith sprung to his feet, slotting himself in beside Lance, so close it felt like he was trying to hide under Lance’s skin.

“I’m going to wash your body first,” Lance said, falling into their natural rhythm. “And then I want you to kneel for me as I wash your hair.”

Keith’s eyes grew wide. Again, kneeling wasn't something they did on a typical basis. Lance was all for it, but Keith didn't like it as much. He said he found it embarrassing and humiliating at times, but when he was particularly feeling it, Keith all but begged Lance to bring him to his knees.

Lance wondered what this time would be. “Color, Keith?”

Keith let out a long breath, leaning his head against Lance’s shoulder. “Green.”

Lance smiled, running his fingers through his Sub’s hair and relishing the little noise that followed. “Good. Remember, hands back. I’ll take your boxers off.”

Keith nodded, keeping balance and smoothly stepping out of his briefs when Lance pulled them down. He waited until Lance had the water to temperature and then stepped under the steaming spray. A shiver ran down his spine as the water flowed down his tense muscles. Lance wouldn’t mind following this up with a massage, but he doubted they would have time.

With Keith’s back to him, Lance quickly shirked off his own clothes. He left them folded on the sink counter as he searched for a bar of soap.

“They have liquid soap here,” Keith stated when Lance turned to look under the sink. “Small dispenser to my right.”

Lance had to stare for several minutes before he made out the near invisible design. He wondered, absently, how long it took Keith to find it the first time.

Reaching forward, Lance delighted in the little gasp from Keith as his bare arm came into the other’s vision. It wasn’t the first time Lance had gotten naked in their bathing times, but it still seemed to surprise Keith every time. The boy really didn’t know just how much Lance wanted him.

Waving his hand, Lance caught the automated soap as it was spat out of the machine. His hands felt a little too dry as he lathered, so he added a little water to the mixture until it felt just right.

Then his hands were all over that familiar-yet-not body, mapping out common trails fitted with new scars. He noted, in the back of his mind, that Keith had grown a little, maybe an inch taller than Lance. He’d also filled out a bit more, his Blade training packing on the muscle. It made Lance feel a little self-conscious of his own lack of changes, but at a pleased sigh from Keith, he was able to push those thoughts away for now.

He would think about them later. Right now was all for Keith.

Lance remained on the outside of the shower as he washed Keith’s body, but when it came time to start with his hair, Lance pushed in beside him. Two fingers hooked around his collar, Lance ordered. “Kneel.”

A light shudder ran down Keith’s spine as he sunk gracefully to his knees. His eyes stared up at Lance adoringly, wide and dilated. It sent a wave of heat up Lance’s ribs. He would never get enough of that look.

“ _Good boy_ ,” Lance said, voice somewhere between a coo and a groan. He toyed with Keith’s collar lightly before reaching for the soap dispenser again. He hadn’t seen any other shampoo, so he suspected that Keith used it for everything. When Keith didn't point out another dispenser, he was proven right. “Eyes closed, _carino_. I don't want the spray to get it in your eyes.”

Keith obliged, dilated eyes falling shut as Lance’s fingers fell to his hair. Pressed up behind him, Lance could feel his weight shift as the Sub leaned back against his shins, searching for skin contact. Keith’s hands were still tightly pressed together behind his back, just as Lance had ordered. He was doing so well, Lance would have to give him a reward if there was enough time.

“Okay, time to rinse, but!” Lance stopped Keith before he could lean forward into the spray. “I want you to turn around.”

Keith made a low, questioning noise.

“Do you trust me, Keith?” Lance asked

“Always,” was his response.

“Then turn around so your face is to me,” Lance ordered. Keith moved slowly and clumsily, his eyes still shut tight, but he obeyed. Running his hands through the other’s bangs, Lance pushed them back, away from Keith’s eyes and wiped away errant suds. “I’m going to hold onto the collar and you’re going to lean back so I can rinse your hair. You might feel like you’re going to fall, but you won’t. I won't let you.”

Keith let out a low whimper, the kind that said he was right on the edge.

“Color, Keith?”

“... Green.”

Lance hooked his fingers through the collar so that it grew snug. “Then go.”

Keith did.

He angled backwards, too fast at first, but Lance held him firm. Lance eased him back, further than was probably comfortable, but nothing that would endanger either of them. Once Keith was sat back on his heels, face upturned in the spray, Lance kept the collar taut, keeping him from going further.

“Good boy.” Lance licked his lips as Keith’s abs tensed and flexed. “Hold.”

Keith fell still.

Keeping his dominant hand holding Keith, Lance used his other to rinse out the suds that didn't wash away with the spray. It didn't take long, Keith’s hair was fairly short despite the mullet, but Lance did take a few minutes to just run his fingers through the clean locks. There were a few tangles, but he’d be sure to comb them out later.

Tugging gently on Keith’s collar, he pulled him out from beneath the spray. The Sub’s face remained upturned, eyes tight against the water. With gentle fingers, Lance brushed the droplets away. “Look at me.”

Keith peaked his eyes open tentatively, then fully. His pupils were so large that only a thin ring of smoky gray was left of his iris. He had slipped into that quiet space in his head that Lance had only seen him do a few times during their scenes. The thought made Lance’s inner Dom purr.

“Such a good boy for me.” Lance cupped his jaw, thumb caressing a pale cheek. “Can you stay here as I wash up?”

The soap wasn’t in his skin care routine, but he was sure that just one time couldn't hurt. He could always do a little moisturizer next time.

Keith nodded, his eyes closing again as he leaned forward against Lance’s thigh. Lance was careful not to move too much as he washed up. He knew how important skin contact was for Subs during and after encountering Subspace. The last thing he wanted was for Keith to get shocked into a Drop after their scene.

His own wash up was quick and perfunctory. Soon enough, he was turning off the shower and reaching down to guide Keith’s chin up.

 “Let’s get you out and dry, yeah?”

A small shiver and Keith nodded, a little dazed. It took a little maneuvering on Lance’s part as Keith’s legs suddenly acted like rubber, but he got both of them out and into towels before guiding them to the bed. Settling them in, Lance allowed himself to be used as a body pillow for the spaced out Sub. Keith didn't often want to cuddle, but when he did, he did so with reckless abandon. In those instances, Lance found himself trapped for hours until Keith’s urge had been satisfied.

Lance was definitely not complaining.

But he couldn't afford to let them lie too long. He didn't know how much time had passed and how much more the Blade could put off leaving. Before they separated again for who knew how long, he had to know.

“Why didn't you just ask for me?” Lance asked quietly. Keith nosed at his collarbone with a questioning noise. “Am I… not a good Dom? Do I not give you what you need? Am I-?”

“What?” Keith’s head came off Lance’s chest to stare at him, wide-eyed. His pupils had returned to normal for the most part, though his face was still flushed. “No! Lance, you’re a great Dom! Best I’ve ever had!”

“The only one you’ve ever had.” Lance snorted against the dam of insecurities, old and new, that threatened to burst. “Keith, I know I'm not typical for Doms. You don’t have to be nice about it. If what we’re doing isn't working for _you_ …”

“Lance.” Keith was the one being stern now, taking Lance’s _stupid, traitorous_ , shaking hands in his. “I don't see a reason to lie about this. If you didn't cut it for me, I would tell you so. I would have found someone else.”

“Kind of hard when I'm the only Dom on the Castle.” Lance pointed out

“But I wasn’t on the Castle for the last few weeks, was I?” Keith countered. “If you think those Doms out there —the Galran Subs —wouldn’t have fallen over themselves trying to ‘take care’ of me, you are so dense.”

“So why didn't you?” Lance asked, his eyes locked onto their hands where he was trying to stop _shaking_. “They’re Galran, so they must know what you need better than I do.”

“I’m also human, Lance.” Keith frowned at him, ducking so that Lance had no choice but to look into those dark eyes. “Sure, they might know what a Galra likes, but only I know what I like. And I like you, beauty routine and choice in music in all.”

“You say that like those are bad things.” Lance wrinkled his nose, but smiled anyway.

“I have never seen another being spend as much time on his image as you, Lance,” Keith deadpanned. “And I know Coran.”

Lance choked on a laugh and turned his hands so that Keith and he were holding on in equal measures. He gazed into those captivating eyes, a warm feeling in his chest. “So… I'm a good Dom?”

“Yes, Lance.” Keith smiled. “You’re a good Dom.”

“And you like~ me?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Too much, unfortunately. Not sure what I would do without you now “

Lance grinned. “Let’s hope we never have to learn. Because I'm a little attached to you too.”

“A little?!”

Lance laughed and pulled Keith in close. The Sub huffed, but smiled and allowed his Dom to hold him tight. They would need to rejoin the real world soon, but that could hold off for a few minutes.

They just needed a little more time to themselves.

*             *             *             *             *

An hour later saw the leaders of the Blade and Paladins shaking hands and thanking them for their new-found knowledge of other species’ dynamics. The two Blade warriors from before looked happy when they saw Keith escort Lance off the ship. Likely, they noticed his recovered vitality, even after only a short amount of time.

Lance and he stood off to the side, saying their private good-byes.

“Remember,” Lance held onto his hand. “If it gets too bad…”

“I’ll tell them to call a meeting with Voltron.” Keith said.

Lance pouted. “I was gonna say _let others take care of you_.”

“But why?” Keith shot him a crooked grin. “I’ve got the best Dom this side of the Milky Way, don’t I?”

Lance felt his face heating, but he didn’t care. “Yeah… Yeah, you do.”

His eyes trailed from Keith’s face to his neck where his collar was still hidden beneath skin-tight alien-leather. Tugging on their joined hands, he pulled Keith in close to whisper in his ear. “And how about, next time? We make _this_ official?”

Now it was _Keith’s_ turn to flush red, his pale skin coloring enticingly. “Y-yeah, okay. We should… yes.”

Lance grinned.

Keith was called back to the ship. His grip tightened before they let go and Lance stepped back with his own team. Hunk laid an arm around his shoulders and Pidge nudged his ribs with her bony elbow. They all waved as the ship took off, then Lance turned back to the ship.

Back to a Shiro that wasn’t right, a crew that didn’t appreciate him, and a lonely bedroom at night.

But it was okay. Lance could do this. He believed in himself. He _knew_ he could.

It didn’t hurt that he had Keith believing in him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, that's a wrap. 
> 
> I didn't get to do much with the team's reactions to Keith's Nature or more of the Galra side of the dynamics, but I did accomplish what I set out to do.
> 
> That line by Lance:   
> “And, if your ‘Dom’ is an Earth ‘Sub’, then-! Zarkon went evil because someone didn't brush his hair?!”
> 
> Was the entire reason I wrote this piece. I had some ideas about Dom!Lance and Sub!Keith, but hadn't wanted to start another project until that line got stuck in my head. You can thank my poor sense of humor for this fic.
> 
> Anyway, that's the last of it. See you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to say 'Good Job!' or 'Update Soon!' or 'Longer please!', just leave a Kudo.
> 
> If you have some critiques, please leave a comment below. I'm always looking to improve my skills, so any little bit helps.
> 
> If you want to leave a comment, but don't know what to say or what I'm looking for in comments, I've put a short outline of what I usually leave on stories in my profile. To find it, click on my pseudonym and then on the Profile tab.


End file.
